


Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy Valentine's Day, a Fantastic Fourth, and a Rockin' Cinco de Mayo, Betty Suarez!

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Ugly Betty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Daniel Meade hasn't been to Betty's house.  (Yet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy Valentine's Day, a Fantastic Fourth, and a Rockin' Cinco de Mayo, Betty Suarez!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my beta, fearlesstemp! This story wouldn't be the same without you. Though the scenes here can all be viewed as being in the same universe, they can also be viewed as different universes. It's up to the reader. :)
> 
> Written for Flora

 

 

_1\. Thanksgiving, 2010_

Betty was halfway to the front steps, her arms full of turkey, before she realized Daniel still hadn't gotten out of the car. She spun on her wedge-like heel, walked back, and smiled briefly at the driver Ben before heaving the turkey on the roof to sit.

"Daniel . . ."

"I'm coming," Daniel said, though the only move he had made was to spin his body toward the open car door.

Betty put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.

"I am!" Daniel made a half-hearted attempt to lift himself out of the seat. He dropped back down with a sigh.

"Daniel . . ."

"Your family loves me. I know. It's going to be fine. There is no reason at all to worry."

"Exactly."

"Your father's going to kill me."

"No, he's not."

"Betty . . ." Daniel hissed.

"Daniel . . ."

"It's nice to know you know my name," Daniel said. He paused. "Your father's scary."

"My father refuses to drink orange juice instead of coffee and watches telenovellas. He is nowhere near scary. He's not even in the vicinity of scary. He doesn't even know where scary is, he lives so far away. He lives in Queens; Scary is in Scandinavia. He --"

Daniel held up a hand. "I get it, Betty."

Betty nodded. "Good. Now get out of the car." Betty made a "come here" gesture with her hands.

Daniel slipped a look at Ben, who was discreetly still looking straight ahead. "Listen, Betty, I know you might not have much experience with this -"

Betty's hands went back to her hips.

"But fathers aren't always happy to see men who are." Daniel stopped, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Who are schtupping their daughters."

Betty bit her bottom lip, but her amusement was evident in the way her eyes crinkled behind her glasses. "Schutpping?" she asked. "When did you find your inner Hebrew?"

Daniel only did his best to glare.

Betty gave in and giggled. "Besides," she said, also lowering her voice, "you're not schutpping me yet."

"But I could be. I want to be." Daniel stammered, and Betty blushed. "I mean -"

"I know what you mean," Betty said. "I also know you'll be doing no such thing, not even in the near future, if you don't get out of this car and come have Thanksgiving with my family."

"Betty -"

"Look, if I don't get in there soon Hilda will think she can make the stuffing and believe me, no one wants that."

At the mention of possible sexual deprivation, Betty noticed that Daniel had eased slightly out of his seat. She tried not to smile.

"You promise he'll be okay with . . . us?" Daniel asked, placing one foot on the sidewalk.

"Daniel, I can't promise anything. Except maybe that Hilda's stuffing will be inedible. And that my father won't chop you into little bitty pieces and bury you in the backyard, in case that's what you're worried about."

"Really?"

"Really." Betty extended her hand. "Now _come on_." Daniel took Betty's hand in his, and together they leveraged him out of the car. Betty waved to Ben as Daniel took the turkey off the roof of the car and followed her up the front walk.

Betty had barely opened the front door before Ignacio met them in the doorway.

"You'd better not be taking advantage of my little girl," he said sternly.

Daniel dropped the turkey face down on the front stoop. Beside him, he heard Betty sigh at the same time he saw Hilda, over Ignacio's right shoulder, roll her eyes.

"Justin, we're gonna need a new turkey," Hilda called. "Go get the money outta my purse."

_2\. Christmas, 2007_

"Is this too much glitter?" Daniel held up the craft stick ornament for Justin to see.

"As if," Justin said, handing Daniel more glue and then the gold glitter. "Use gold for the accent color."

Daniel nodded and started adding more glue.

Justin started using yarn to make a hook so he could hang up the cardboard ornament to which he had just attached Betty's picture.

"Do you miss her?" Justin asked.

Daniel looked up from where he was carefully pinching some gold glitter between his fingers. "Miss who?"

"Aunt Betty."

Daniel looked back down at the glitter container, and it didn't escape Justin's notice that when he did that, his face was half hidden. People were always doing things like that around Justin, hiding things, or trying to keep secrets, as if he wouldn't notice. He knew that there was something going on with his grandfather, something that went beyond an immigration problem, but his mother wouldn't talk about it - no one in the family would. But Justin knew that something was still wrong, just like he had known that Daniel would try to hide his face when Justin brought up Betty. At least Daniel was a little honest, not completely trying to lie to Justin while looking him in the eye. Justin liked that about Daniel.

"What do you mean, Justin? I see Betty all the time."

"Yeah, but just around the building and stuff. You don't work together all the time anymore."

Daniel did look up at that, smiling wryly. "Justin, in case you don't know, I'm at your house right now. I think your aunt and I are still friends."

Justin was tempted to stick his tongue out at Daniel, but instead raised his eyebrows in the same way his mom did when he was trying to get out of doing homework. "Maybe."

"Maybe what?" Daniel sprinkled glitter on the craft sticks, though not nearly liberally enough, Justin thought.

"Maybe you're still friends. But you're not a team anymore."

"What do you know about us being a team?" Daniel asked, though he didn't sound mad, which Justin thought was a good sign. He decided to press a little further.

"Well, you know. How she was always bailing you out of stuff."

"Hey!" Daniel protested.

"Well, she _was_ ," Justin said.

Daniel bobbed his head from side to side. "Maybe."

"And she did all that stuff to help you. She protected you, kept Wilhelmina off your back." Justin paused. "Though, honestly, Wilhelmina is pretty fierce. Did you see that red gown she had on at the MTV awards? Fashion _forward_."

Daniel looked at Justin, the expression his face partly annoyed, and partly amused. "Yeah, I saw the dress Justin."

"I'm just saying."

"Okay."

"Okay," Justin said. "Anyway. You and Aunt Betty have lunch every once in a while -"

"Once a week," Daniel inserted.

"But it's not like being together all day every day. Putting an issue together. Helping each other with your problems."

"So what's your point? Betty's about to get promoted at NYW, isn't she?"

Justin shook his head carefully.

"What? She's not?" Daniel dropped the glitter on the carpet.

Justin shook his head again.

"But that's what she was promised. It's what she deserves."

"I know," Justin said, trying to sound dismayed, which wasn't too hard, because he kind of was. "But she's such a good assistant, I think they're going to keep her there."

"Betty's said that?"

"I heard her tell my mom," Justin said.

Daniel looked thoughtful.

"I also heard there's an assistant editor position open at _Mode_ ," Justin said, putting the final knot in the yarn.

"Where'd you hear that?" Daniel asked.

"Fashion TV. They think that Jean Scranton is a candidate for the job, but she isn't, is she? Her taste is _horrible_. Plus I heard she lost her job at _Vanity Fair_ because she couldn't keep her mouth shut about their upcoming shoots - celebrity names and _everything_." Justin shook his head. "Bad choice."

Daniel smiled wryly. "I'll take that under advisement."

"Good," Justin said. "So, are you going to hire Aunt Betty for the job? She wouldn't be your assistant anymore, but you'd still get to work together all the time. Every day."

Daniel gave Justin a measured look, and this time it was Justin who ducked his head. "I'll think about it," Daniel said slowly.

"Good. Good. That's great!"

"What's great?" Betty asked, dropping her bag in the living room.

"Nothing," Justin and Daniel said at the same time.

Betty came in and picked up the ornament Justin had been working on. "Hey, why is there gold glitter on the floor?"

"No reason," Daniel said, and Justin smiled.

_3\. Valentine's Day, 2011_

"No one's home, right?" Daniel asked.

"No. No one's home."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I'm sure," Betty said, smoothing out her nightgown.

"Good. Good. I. That's . . . good."

Betty grinned and pulled the bed clothes down.

"Are those _Beauty and the Beast_ sheets?" Daniel asked, looking down.

"The _Little Mermaid_ ones are in the laundry," Betty shrugged.

"Okay. I'm not sure I can do this anymore," Daniel said.

Betty climbed onto the bed, kneeling directly on the Beast's face.

"I'm pretty sure you can," she answered.

"Betty -" Daniel started.

Betty grabbed a fistful of Daniel's sleep shirt and tugged him onto the bed, kissing him. When she ended the kiss, Daniel was flushed and breathing hard.

"I think I can do this," he said.

"I thought you could." Betty grinned and pulled off her glasses, setting them on the nightstand before shimmying under the covers.

_4\. The Fourth of July, 2012_

"Wow," Daniel breathed.

"I know," Betty said.

"I mean . . . _wow_."

Betty smiled as another round of fireworks went off. "I told you so."

"Betty. This view is spectacular." Daniel gazed out at the top of New York City, sitting in a lawn chair on the roof of Betty's house. Betty was next to him, stretched out on a lawn chair of her own, a glass of lemonade beside her and a grilled cheese sandwich on a paper plate in her lap.

Betty looked over at Daniel and smiled, a round of green fireworks reflected on the surface of her glasses. "My mom used to bring us up here every year. She loved the fireworks."

Daniel looked at Betty and smiled. "You girls were pretty lucky," he said.

"Yeah, we were," Betty said softly.

Daniel extended a hand into the gap between their chairs. When Betty smiled and took it, he squeezed it gently. "Yeah," he said, watching another round of fireworks go off in Betty's reflection.

_5\. May, 2009_

"Don't eat Mrs. Henderson's chilupas, they're terrible," Betty said. "Oh. And not Mr. Filliano's fajitas. No. I don't know how you can screw up a fajita, but he does. It's just . . . ugh," Betty said, running out of adjectives.

"I see words fail you, Betty," Daniel said.

"When it comes to Mr. Filliano's fajitas, they do," Betty confirmed, shuddering.

They were walking up Betty's street, which was closed off for a block party celebrating Cinco de Mayo. All the neighbors were out, stacking their food on fold-up tables and dinner trays, streamers trailing from houses and clotheslines and tables.

"Is there anyone's food I can eat?" Daniel asked.

"Well, there's -"

"Your dad's," Daniel finished, laughing along with Betty as she waved at another neighbor.

"I know I complain about the food, but I love this day. Everyone gets together, come out of their homes and just share with everyone else. There's this . . . togetherness that I love." Betty smiled, waving to Mrs. Perez. She turned back toward the front of the street. "Oh, _crap_ ," she said, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Daniel asked, following Betty's gaze. All he saw was Hilda talking with another woman, about her own age, with dark hair and pants just as tight.

" _Gina_ ," Betty said, starting off at a brisk walk down the street, leaving Daniel no choice but to follow or get left behind.

Betty stalked up to Hilda and Gina. She was opening her mouth to speak when Hilda held up a hand.

"We're just talking, Betty," Hilda said.

"Yeah, Betty. Relax," Gina echoed, snapping her gum.

Daniel caught up with Betty. "You're the one who stole the book," Daniel managed around a bite of grilled corn-on-the-cob. Betty looked at him.

"What? It was on the way. Mrs. Perez was making it." Daniel turned around and waved to Mrs. Perez. She smiled broadly and waved back.

"Who's the guy?" Gina asked, looking Daniel up and down.

"'The guy' is my boss," Betty said.

"Oh, the rich guy."

"Yeah, the rich guy," Daniel said, taking another bite of corn. "The powerful, rich guy. And handsome."

Betty threw him look.

"What? It's all true," Daniel said, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Betty sighed.

"Anyway, get a grip, Betty. Your sister and I were just talking," Gina said.

Betty ignored Gina and turned to her sister. "Gina's dating Santos," she said.

"What?" Hilda asked, her voice going up at least an octave as she turned to Gina.

Gina ignored Hilda. "How would you know?" she asked Betty.

"Please. It's all over the neighborhood. The Joneses saw you making out with him in your car last week. You know Rosita can't help but tell everyone she sees, and I ran into her coming out of the subway on Thursday," Betty answered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hilda asked Betty.

"Because I didn't want to upset you."

"I don't care about Santos."

Betty cocked her head and looked at Hilda.

"Well, not much," Hilda amended. Then she turned on Gina. "Unless he's dating you. You've been all over him since the ninth grade. Tried to take him away from me and everything when we were in high school."

"That was a long time ago. He's a free man now. He can do what he wants. Just 'cause he's that scrawny kid's dad -"

"Hey, you leave Justin outta this," Hilda countered.

"I'm happy to. He doesn't want anything to do with that kid anyway," Gina finished with a snap of her gum.

Daniel took a step back, seeing the murderous look on Hilda's face and the shocked and angry expression on Betty's. His eyes darted back and forth between the women nervously. "There's not going to be a fight or anything, is there?" he asked.

Betty shot Daniel a partly-patient, partly-scornful look. Hilda just kept glaring at Gina.

"No, no fight, Daniel," Betty said, taking his arm and starting to steer him back to the block party.

Hilda's eyes narrowed, but she walked away with one last withering look at Gina. "Yeah. Don't worry, no fight, Daniel." She caught up with Betty and Daniel. "We'll just key her car later," she said, loud enough for Betty to hear, but not for Gina to make out clearly.

"Hilda!" Betty said, looking scandalized, but Daniel laughed.

"Have you ever egged a house?" Daniel asked. "That makes a huge mess."

"Daniel!" Betty gasped. "She doesn't need any encouragement."

Hilda smiled and took Daniel's other arm. "You know, I'm beginning to like you, Daniel Meade," she said as the three of them walked back down the street, streamers flapping in the wind around them.

 

 

 


End file.
